


Exquisite

by notjustmom



Series: Words, Words, Words [196]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Johnlock Fluff, M/M, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 14:26:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6569842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>exquisite: adjective: ek-ˈskwi-zət: finely done or made : very beautiful or delicate</p><p> </p><p>late Middle English (in the sense ‘carefully ascertained, precise’): from Latin exquisit- ‘sought out,’ from the verb exquirere, from ex- ‘out’ + quaerere ‘seek.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exquisite

John stood up from his examination of their latest corpse; manual strangulation, large, strong fingers had taken this life, most likely belonging to an equally large man, but as always it was dangerous to assume before one had all the facts. He yanked his gloves off and glanced at his own well made, smaller fingers, fingers that at one time healed, instead of determining cause of death. He sighed and caught the eye of the man who looked up at him. Sherlock noticed, he always noticed. John mentally shook himself back to the crime scene and watched as Sherlock's own exquisite, almost ridiculously elegant fingers dipped into the victim's pockets, finding clues in the ticket stub and receipt, detailing her last hours.

"Anything else, Lestrade?" Sherlock asked after he gave the DI everything but the suspect's address and phone number. Lestrade shook his head and shooed them from his scene.

"Angelo's?" Sherlock nudged his shoulder. "I know you are starving."

"Hmmm...? Oh, sure."

Sherlock threaded his fingers through John's and held his hand up to his lips. "These fingers..."

"Yes...?"

"Saved my life, make me tea and toast, and make me lose my mind on occasion." He kissed each knuckle, then stopped walking. "This wasn't how I had planned..."

"Sherlock?"

He knelt in front of John, and felt for the small box in his pocket. "You know, at least I hope you know how I feel about you, and have felt about you since I first saw you standing in the lab...I know I'm not the most conventional man. Yes, laugh, go ahead..."

John smiled down at him and held his face gently in his free hand and shook his head.

"...but I want to marry you, I want people to know how much..."

"Yes."

"Yes?"

John nodded, then knelt down in front of Sherlock and kissed him gently. "Yes. Now, you idiot, please get up before traffic backs up another block and they call the cops, yeah?"

"Ah, yes, quite right. Dinner?"

"Starving, love."


End file.
